


Robes

by ajoy3



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:14:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29143557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajoy3/pseuds/ajoy3
Summary: He watched her get ready, not for the first time, but still an experience that left him breathless. She did it so easily in front of him, when before she had been shy, nervous about showing skin that had once been kept hidden. It was comfortable now, a sense of habit and routine to watch Kagome slip her thin arms into the billowing white sleeves, stepping into the flowing red hakama.He had hated those robes.
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome/InuYasha
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	Robes

Written for Inuvember, day 7: Miko. Better late than never! 

He watched her get ready, not for the first time, but still an experience that left him breathless. She did it so easily in front of him, when before she had been shy, nervous about showing skin that had once been kept hidden. It was comfortable now, a sense of habit and routine to watch Kagome slip her thin arms into the billowing white sleeves, stepping into the flowing red hakama.

He had hated those robes.

A simple article of clothing could tell so much. Deep red, eye-catching, a tell-tale symbol of one’s status as a Miko. White, pure and wholesome. Untouched and unblemished. They were a timeless reminder of station, of a position in a society that chased him away, slurred insults at him as they turned their backs.

Kikyo had been a miko.

She had worn the same robes, shrouded herself in a tangible signal that screamed ‘hands off’. It was taboo- not at all encouraged or allowed for someone so holy to consider an intimate relationship; Kikyo was not only gifted, but entrusted with an important duty. There was no way she would have been able to sully her hands and engage with a man, never mind a demon. The only way they could be together, truly be happy, and finally be allowed to live, was if she was to shed her robes and take up the responsibility of a normal woman, a normal wife.

He was resentful.

Whenever Kagome would slip into Kaede’s clothes, he felt himself bristle; again, the woman he loved was out of reach. He knew it, was well aware that a pair of hakama did not stand in his way with Kagome- it was other barriers that could lay claim to that- but it was visual; rubbing it in his face that _again_ , he wanted what he could not have.

Deep down, more than anything, he was scared.

He knew the outcome with Kikyo; knew that she would not have walked away from her duties and in the end, died for them. Would the same fate befall Kagome? Would he have to suffer through letting go of another woman, simply because she donned red and white? He hated to see her in those robes, hated to see her broadcasting that she was off-limits; at least in her everyday clothes, he had some hope, a sliver of fantasy that she could be his.

And then she was gone.

Gone for days, weeks, months. Somehow, it turned into years, and he still kept waiting, still kept trying to get to her, hoping for a miracle. He wouldn’t have minded seeing her in those robes, if it meant he could see her. Let her be a Miko, let her live out her life in service of others, if that’s what she wanted; as long as he could be near her, it would be enough.

It was easy to say that in her absence; once she came through that well, her feet landing on the wet grass, he knew in his gut it wouldn’t be enough. She was here, home at last, and he wanted to monopolize her, wanted to whisk her away and not look back. He was afraid- terrified that she as back and would fall into her rightful place; the one fate had picked for her when it blessed her with extraordinary gifts.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when she refused the position at first. She was adamant that she came back for him of all people, and that he was the priority. If being a miko meant that she could not be with Inuyasha, then she had no interest. But the village, more progressive in this time than it had been in his youth, was quick to understand and happy to accept; she wore her bridal kimono one day, and a short few days after dressed in the same white robes he had hated so much.

She looked confident in them now; he was proud to see her wear them, proud that when she walked through the streets of their village that people knew her strength, her status and her gifts; yes, she was a miko. Anyone that passed her by would know that. It gave her purpose, gave her pride to wear the red and white with her head held high. He had hated them once, but it was different this time. They no longer represented what he could not have; That same priestess had a demon who warmed her bed at night, taking those same robes off layer by layer.


End file.
